Ghost Of a Texas Ladies' Man
by Summoner Luna
Summary: Quistis is not afraid of ghosts. -IrvinexQuistis, and encounters that probably shouldn't be. Vague adult content.-


Quistis Trepe stared at her towel, which lay in an ungraceful pile on the bathroom floor.

It wasn't the floor bit that bothered her. It was clean, for one, and not unheard of for the thing to fall while she was distracted by soap and hot water and the few minutes a day where she was truly alone.

No, not the floor. But she _knew_ she had hung it on the over-the-door towel hook like she always did. So what was it doing on the other side of the room?

She shrugged, and picked it up nonetheless. It had been a long day after all, long enough to break routine without realizing it. Long enough that she was starting to see things in her mirror.

See _people._

People that were supposed to be _dead._

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, walked out of the room without a second look in the mirror, and stopped dead-so to speak-at the man that was literally hovering over her bed.

"I need to drink more," she muttered.

"It always helped me," Irvine-could he even really still be called Irvine?-replied with a grin.

"Saw ghosts a lot, did you?"

"All the time." He lowered himself until he gave the appearance of being seated. Quistis remained resolutely in place in the doorway, only now becoming aware that she had never gotten around to actually covering herself with the tell-tale towel. She reached instinctively for the light switch but the ghost was on her before she had a chance to lift her arm. "Leave it on," he almost growled, a lot closer than she ever remembered him daring to try while he was alive. She was not the sort of woman whose knees got weak over anything (or so she liked to tell herself), but she almost felt herself waver.

"How are you _here?_"

"Naked's a good look for you, you know that?"

"If you weren't already dead, you would be now."

He took a step back and held a transparent hand over his transparent chest. Had he also been naked the whole time? He chuckled, and said, "Kinda hard to bring clothes with you when you don't have a body to put them on."

"You still haven't answered my question. Either I have completely lost my sanity, or you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Workin' with Squall's enough to make anyone question their sanity, ain't it?"

She let a laugh slip, trying to ignore the absurdity of the fact that a man who died six months ago was standing (floating?) in front of her, completely naked, and cracking jokes. His grin spread, and he reached a hand out to take hers.

"See? I knew you missed me."

"Of course I do. Everyone does. That still doesn't explain why you're in my room and we are having this conversation."

"A naked conversation."

She raised an eyebrow, wondering if a glare would work as well on him dead as it had alive.

"Alright, alright." Apparently, yes. "I got... Bored? Lonely? Never really sat right what happened, so I wasn't really in a mind to jus' go. But, ghosts got needs too, you know." He waggled his eyebrows, using the hand he held to try and pull her towards the bed.

"You're not serious. So you chose me?"

"Well it's not like Rinoa's really an option. I'm pretty sure Squall really would find a way to kill me twice just for thinking about-"

"I wasn't referring to Rin-Hey!" He gave another tug and she lost her balance, falling, as she was sure he had intended, directly into his arms and he pulled her hips against his.

She was fairly certain ghosts were _not_ supposed to be that...solid.

"Not sure how long I'm stayin'. 'Sides, looks like she's movin' on, no need to mess things up for her."

"I'm surprised in all your knowledge of women, nobody ever let on that telling a girl she's a last resort isn't the best way to-"

Irvine cut her off, closing his lips over hers in a way that was far more appealing that Quistis cared to admit, for a kiss that lasted an hour if it lasted a second. "Think of it more as... a second chance."

He spun her around and dropped her onto the bed below him. He looked almost predatory, and Quistis reached back, knotted her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down so his lips met hers, hard.

"I'm not afraid of ghosts," she whispered.

"I'd be disappointed if you were."

* * *

_First off, I cannot take myself seriously with this fic at all. Second, this is one of those rare times when I actually did write a songfic. The song (same title as this fic) is by Concrete Blonde, and naturally Irvine popped into my head the first time I heard it. I really wanted to write something for it, and Quistis really just seemed like the only fit here. So... Sorry about this! I don't really write crack, or smut, and while this is a very watered down version of that, hopefully someone will at least get a good laugh out of it!_


End file.
